Maleficent: Crime Fighter
by MaleficentMo
Summary: Maleficent, based on the movie, AU where they still have their powers, and live in a city (The Moors) and Maleficent fights crime with Diaval at her side. Maleval.
1. Chapter 1

The streets were dirty, gritty. She could feel the grit digging into her jaw on her cheek as she hit the pavement once more. She wondered to herself why she did this sometimes; this messy, grueling job. But then she remembered. It was because her beautiful Aurora lived here, and all of Aurora's little friends. Because the residents of The Moors all had loved ones, and all those loved ones had little friends. For so many people, The Moors had become a place of refuge; not refreshing, no, nor pretty, but an oasis nonetheless; a place where you could go if you had a past you were running from, if some of the nightmares you created in the past were catching up with you.

And so, she got up once more. Pushed her body up off the ground, and called for Diaval to turn into a bird once more, to help her track the latest scumbag.

Diaval flew off with a caw, chasing the attacker through the labyrinth of paths and turns, following him to his hideout. And then he reported back to his mistress.

The attacker had a hideout (don't they all?) on the other side of town, a little shack under a bridge that was sufficiently dark and damp enough to make a suitable lair for any discerning criminal. Diaval flew to the back, to take out runaways, while Maleficent confidently stalked toward the entrance. A kick of her spike heeled boot and the ramshackle door splintered apart and flew off its hinges. The inside was poorly lit, but that didn't affect her, not as she raised a gloved hand and lifted all the contents of the shack into the air, and then to where she stationed herself outside. She set everything down with a clunk, no need to finesse these ignorant apes.

There were three of them. She could tell by the way they all looked to the eldest that he was their leader. He stood up, puffed out his chest, and began to speak- which Diaval thought, all things considered, was not quite the best thing for the man to have done at that point.

"W-who do you think you are?" said the man, voice trembling from fear. Diaval supposed he had to give him points for being able to speak at a point where most men could not even hold their bladders from fear.

Maleficent, it was apparent, did not agree. "Who am I?" she asked, in her quiet voice, because she had no need to raise it. Armies stopped and strained to hear her whispers. "I think the more important question here is, who are you?" Her voice was quiet, but forceful, striking a deep resonance in the man. He visibly flinched, and shifted his weight. "It matters not who I am," she continued. "Who do you think you are?! Inflicting yourself upon The Moors. No-one asked you to come here. No-one invited you to come here, to cause trouble, to harm others. Who are you to claim these rights?"

By now the man was on his knees, trembling nonstop, and Diaval just shook his head. He knew what it felt like to be under that stare, to hear that powerful voice echoing through you until it seemed to reach your soul. He pretended apathy, as he always did, but he knew that secretly, he trembled too when she let him glimpse her power, as she was doing now to the poor fool in her claws.

The man was crying. Unapologetically, and most probably unknowingly sobbing as though he faced his maker. Pretty close, thought Diaval.

She looked at the sniveling fool with disgust, and a looked almost disappointed, he thought. It was true they never met anyone worth meeting anymore. Everyone in this godforsaken city seemed to tremble in fear of her: no-one ever bother to stand against her. Of course, they would fail, but she never got a chance to use her real power. Besides, made her feel as though she lived in a city of cowards. She sighed. Well, at least she could return home to her Aurora, and see her pretty smile again.

When she got home she was rewarded for her efforts with a shriek and a hug from Aurora, who did not expect her back so early. "I suppose it went well, then, if you are back already?" she said, and Maleficent gave her a frown. That was all that was needed for Aurora to start talking again. "Oh, don't give me that disapproving stare. I know, I know, we don't speak of such things," she finished with a good-natured huff, and she flounce back into the kitchen to resume the creation of a salad. Aurora's godmother remained silent, so she went on. "I had a perfectly boring day. I went to the grocery store, picked up the mail, and- oh!" she interrupted herself with something else she wanted to say. "In the checkout lane, I saw on the cover of one of those tabloids: it looks like Brangelina is at it again."

Maleficent perked up, and as she began quizzing her goddaughter for details, Diaval rolled his eyes. "I just don't understand why you two get so excited, keeping up with the lives of complete strangers, whose only recommending quality is that they are rich." But the girls ignored him and he shook his head, and opened the oven to check on the roasting vegetables inside. That caught their attention right away.

"Ooh, those smell so good!" crooned Maleficent. Will they be ready soon?"

"Another ten minutes, I should say," he replied, and plopped on the sofa next to her.

"Well then we should start setting the table," she decided, and popped up to do the chore. Diaval rolled his eyes again. "That woman never could sit still," he muttered, and Aurora laughed.

"Yes," she mused, "but isn't that why you love her?"

"What?!" Diaval acted as though he had been poked with a sharp stick.

"You love her," repeated Aurora easily.

"Well I certainly don't know what gave you that idea, but my relationship with your godmother is that of servant and mistress, nothing else."

"Oh, I know that," said Aurora, laughing. "But if it were up to you, that wouldn't be all there is to it."

Diaval sqwaked. "Now look here, missy," he began, but Aurora just laughed it off.

"Don't worry," she said, waving her hand nonchalantly, in a way that reminded him startlingly of Maleficent. "I won't tell."

She went to help her godmother set the table, and so Diaval remained, muttering to himself about the lunacy of young people today.

But that had not been the first time he had noticed Aurora mimicking Maleficent. It was obviously subconscious, he doubted either of them noticed it, but he did. He noticed everything when it came to his girls. He was glad to see it, too. Aurora needed a good role model, and who better, he thought. Maleficent was strong, but strong enough that she could be soft. She was beautiful, but she didn't rely on her beauty- she worked for everything she had. She was peaceful whenever she could be, but she was also the first person he would chose to lead an army to battle. She was sturdy and strong, almost unbreakable. But she was oh so delicate. She would never admit to it, the stubborn woman, but she was. He could see it in the hunch of her shoulders, in the occasional tremor of her voice. He was there when she was first broken by Stephan, that-

But he calmed himself, and watched his girls at work. They were both so happy. Aurora seemed to bring happiness and sunlight wherever she went, and Maleficent? He hadn't seen her this at ease since... Well, ever, actually. And he counted it as a matter of pride that he got to witness it every day.

Over dinner they discussed nothing much, things about their day, a new show Aurora wanted to try, a mention of dry cleaning. These were the conversations Aurora loved best.

She remembered when she first met Maleficent. She remembered how she never smiled. There was always a hidden, hooded look in her eyes, like she was holding back, afraid to be hurt again. She didn't see that look very much anymore. And she was glad. Because the woman that had become like a mother to her deserved to be happy, however much she may disagree. She was an outstanding woman, full of strength and gentle love. Aurora had experienced this first hand. That is why she loved these conversations the most. Because she could see how content Maleficent really was, how happy she was with her everyday life, and she knew that she wanted to keep her happy forever.

It was the middle of the night when Maleficent awoke. The time flashed on the microwave, berating her for being awake at such a time, but she could not sleep. She sat on the couch next to the big windows, and looked out over The Moors. She had grown up here, played on these streets and gone to school a few blocks away. Her old house wasn't standing anymore; it was a sleek apartment complex now, which was probably for the best. The place was admittedly ramshackle when she lived there, years ago. She looked out over the city, deep in thought, but still conscious of the form coming up behind her.

It was almost like an alarm in his head, he thought. Anytime Maleficent was distressed, ruffled, or when she was feeling particularly delicate. As soon as Diaval awoke, he knew that she was feeling restless tonight, and he got up to soothe her if he could, and hopefully get some sleep tonight. Not that he actually needed much sleep, being a bird, but it was a luxury he had quickly acclimated to when he became human.

He stepped into the dark room, and the city lights lit her reflection on the window. By the five holy mages, she was beautiful. Some might call her features sharp, but he knew their softness when she gazed at her Aurora, he knew that she was not made from stone from the few times she had allowed him to wipe away her tears. Her hair long and strong, he hands nimble and precise, she never seemed to waste a movement. Never seemed to stumble when she walked, never seemed to pause for a lack of something to do. He found that to be a quality he admired in her, even though he had never noticed that quality, or lack thereof, in anyone else. He didn't question it. Maleficent was a woman who could make you see a whole new side of the world. She would turn you upside down, your whole world around in a whir, but once she was finished, you'd find that anything was worth it for the new life she showed you. She may be a bit clumsy when it came to people, she stumbled sometimes in social situations, but that just made her all the more special, in his opinion, and it made being close to her feel like an elite privilege.

And it _was_ that, he thought to himself. She had trusted three people in this world, and one had let her down. Let her down, and tried to drag her down with him. Diaval and Aurora silently understood that that meant it was up to the two of them to make that up to her.

So as he sat next to her, positioned almost identically to their spots before dinner, he kept silent. He knew she didn't need words. Words meant nothing, in this world or any other. He just silently sat beside her, supporting her, being there. They didn't need words between them, they understood each other, and so they spent the rest of the night like that, Maleficent looking out the window, musing on the world, and Diaval watching Maleficent, musing on the intricacies of the fairy in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Maleficent never allowed Aurora to know anything more than the very basics of what she did when she went out at night. She was so afraid, sometimes, afraid that her "side job," as she jokingly referred to it, would intrude upon Aurora's peace, that something might happen that would break the tenuous life they had built together, oh so fragile, but getting stronger every day. The reason she fought was also the reason she feared to fight, and so she lived her life on eggshells and broken glass, tiptoeing carefully so as not to upset the balance. And she never for a moment believed that she would be able to do so without Diaval. He was her tie between worlds, there for her whether he was needed to hunt down criminals or run to the grocery store. He always seemed to be perched, ready to fly off at a moment's notice, to do her bidding and yet- and yet she had never known anyone so at peace, almost restful. One could tell at a glance that he was where he wanted to be, and that he would fight for his right to be there no matter what. Maleficent held no illusions: she knew that he did not stay with her because of his promised obligation on that day so long ago, when he swore to be her servant. That had been obligatory, and his service to her was anything but. She knew this, and yet she caught herself at times wondering what would happen if she released him from his bond- if she told him that he was free. She thought that he would stay with her- heaven knows why, but he would- and yet she found a strange ache in the pit of her stomach, a longing to find out for herself what would happen. She didn't understand it, and when she found herself thinking of it, she pushed it to the back of her mind, intimidated by the digging she would have to do insider herself to find the answers she sought. So she pushed it away and yet, somewhere in her subconscious she knew what she would find. Perhaps that was why she did not look. Denial had a way of making one's life infinitely easier, and she had never had an easy life. How she longed for one now.

There were nights when Maleficent didn't come home until late. When she did arrive home, she was hurt- she tried with all her might to hide it, Aurora knew, but she loved her godmother, and saw what she so desperately tried to hide.

At first, Aurora hated it when Maleficent went out to fight the baser instincts of the city. It took her away from her, and it hurt her sometimes, knowing that Maleficent had seen the dirty side of life for far too long- why, when they were finally settling down to their life together, why was she so eager to go back to that?

It was many months before Aurora understood. She remembered when she had had that discussion with Diaval. It was after a particularly ugly argument that he had gone to her. Usually, after a disagreement between the two stubborn women, Diaval flew right to his mistress's side, so it was a surprise when he knocked on the door to her room. She had invited him in, and they talked. She had expected him to be gentle and soothing, reasoning, to understand her point of view- he always had before, even when they had disagreed. But Diaval was angry with her. His eyes on fire, his muscles tight, he stayed silent for a long time, and it was obvious that he was trying to reign in his feelings, to gain some self-control.

Aurora had never seen him angry before. Sure, he would get mad and huffy when he talked with Maleficent, or a wry sort of irked when he dealt with criminals, but never angry. So when she opened her door to his tight face and short manner, she was almost afraid at first. She knew he would never harm her, that wasn't it, but she was afraid, afraid that she had done something irreparable. Perhaps that was why she was so open to what he had to say- because she knew without a doubt that he was deadly serious. And he could tell that she understood, for his manner softened as they spoke, and his jaw unclenched, and he sat with her while they talked. She sat quietly while he explained, explained why it was Maleficent went out every night, why she was so protective of her ward- and Aurora's heart softened. She was still so young, so inexperienced in the ways of the world, and she realised that that night. After they had spoken, she had wanted to go to Maleficent, to apologise, but she didn't. She thought about what Diaval had said, instead, and tried to understand things from her godmother's point of view. She fell asleep that night thinking on it, and the next morning, greeted Maleficent with a bright smile and a kiss. She told her simply that she knew she had gone too far with her words last night, and that she hoped Maleficent could forgive her quick temper. That she loved her truly, no matter what she decided to do, and that she would always welcome her home with a smile. Maleficent had smiled, softly and deeply, and when she was alone, she cried. Diaval sat on the armchair in the darkened room, silent, while Maleficent wept as quietly and thoroughly as the morning dew settling on the world.

And after that, Aurora had kept her word. She had welcomed Maleficent home every evening with a smile, and if she was asleep before her godmother came home, then the next morning she would make breakfast: blueberry muffins with hot maple syrup and strong coffee, and they would eat together in bed, talking about nothings and spending the morning in each other's company. It was moments like these that soothed Maleficent's old wounds more that anything else could. Just her and her girl, living together.

Diaval picked up the black leather messenger bag that was as much a part of him as his own arm, and began filling it with the usual things: rope and tape, daggers and a first aid kit, and the enchanted necklace that Maleficent had made for him not too long ago. She had made him swear only to use it in case of emergency, and he had agreed immediately, even before she told him the power of the necklace. It could turn him into anything he chose. It could only be used once, but once wold be enough, if they were ever in such a situation where it was needed. He treated the amulet with reverence, as he knew without asking how much of herself she had given to make this for him- to make sure that he would always be safe. He didn't quite know how he felt about that, but it seemed to be a mixture of feelings, ranging from a sort of deeply affected sadness to a feeling of wholeness he hadn't known he had been without. His mistress never was one for words- they both knew how little they meant- but there were times, times like that, when she showed him how much she cared. And it was the times like those that he treasured.

He filled his bag with the things they would need, and then they were off- off to protect their Moors from the infestations inside it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

They began their night as they began most nights, by flying the streets, meeting with a network of homeless and needy people who were glad to help for the generous allowance Maleficent provided for them. They received reports of the goings-on of The Moors, who went where and why. And then they followed up. On this particular occasion, they learned from several sources that there was a pattern of crimes taking place that all had a similar stench to them- an MO, if you like. There were girls being taken off the streets. Nobody anyone would miss- whores and runaways, mostly- but that didn't matter to Maleficent. She would track them down nonetheless.

She started where the first girl was taken- in an alley much like any other, dark and dank and musty. Diaval absently wondered if that was a prerequisite to alleys, that they be dark and dirty, all the easier to commit crime in. It had happened just outside of the back door of a greasy restaurant, and a quick examination revealed that the owners of the place had heard a ruckus at the time of the attack, but couldn't be bothered to check on it. The husband presented the excuse that it was a bad neighborhood, and they couldn't stir themselves every time someone misbehaved. Maleficent's opinion that these unconcerned witnesses were just as guilty as the real culprit was shared by Diaval. However, they didn't have time to deal with these petty people, and so they breezed past without another word- the witnesses apparently in some way understanding their mistake, as they watched the pair go in fear- and relief that they were chosen to be ignored.

The second site was similar to the first in darkness and dirt, but this time there were no witnesses to share their tale; only a splash of mud and a broken pallet to show the signs of a brave struggle, before the victim was carried off. The third site was the same, but on the fourth they gained some luck- not only were there witnesses, but the people who had heard the ruckus had investigated in concern, and had even been able to provide a brief description- sparse, due to darkness, but much more than they had had previously. The witnesses at the fourth site informed the pair that the culprit had been a white man, scruffy, who had a tattoo on his forearm. Of what, they couldn't say, and were similarly clueless as to the age, features, and hair colour of the man. Finally, after thanking them for their help, Maleficent saw the break they needed- a Missing poster for the fourth girl. It wasn't much. But it included an address and phone number, and so was enough.

They called the number, asking for an appointment with the parents of the lost girl, and were quickly accepted. Tomorrow


	4. Chapter 4

Something was wrong. Aurora was smiling when they got home, but the could tell that something was wrong immediately. Maybe it was the almost wild look in her eyes; the slightly jerky motions; or the smile that was stiffly glued to her face. Whatever it was, Maleficent took note, and shook her head almost imperceptibly at Diaval. She knew as a woman knows, that now was not the time to ask. So they plalyed along, and Aurora calmed down a bit after a few minutes.

That night, Diaval came to Maleficent, perched at her usual spot in front of the enormous glass windows facing The Moors, brilliantly lit. He thought to himself that it almost looked like it was a city ablaze with fire, and that Maleficent was a goddess, watching apathetically. The vision passed quickly enough, but he smiled to himself. She was a "good person" now, but she was not so different from how he remembered her. She had the same soul, that was neither good nor bad, but restful, observant, reactionary, and that glowed with an intangible power that he couldn't quite put a name to. She was much more powerful that she let Aurora see, he had seen her hold back time and again. But sometimes it almost seemed as if even hedid not know the extent her powers could reach. He had certainly never seen her reach the limits of her massive magic. He didn't understand, but he also knew that there was something free he was not seeing, something he couldn't grasp.

She spoke, and interrupted his musings. "Are you just going to stand there staring at me all night?"

He smiled slightly. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. I just didn't know if I needed to start performing."

He laughed and sat next to her. He sighed. "So," he began.

"Yes." she replied, reading his mind.

"Well?" he responded.

It was her turn to sigh. "I don't know. I will talk to her, but later. I don't want to push."

"Yeah." They sat in silence for a minute, and then he stood, and looked down at her. "You should go to bed." She was tired, even if she didn't know it.

"Yes," she repeated. He knew that she wouldn't. She wasn't listening to him anymore, off in her own world again. He walked away, wondering where that world was, and how he could get in.

The next morning, Aurora was up early. It was her day with Maleficent, she always had Wednesdays alone with her beloved godmother, no work, no responsibilities, just a girl's day. She always got to pick what they did, and she had decided that they were going shopping this morning. She was up and dressed by eight, and walked into the kitchen to see Maleficent sipping tea, scanning the newspaper. Her eyebrows rose when she saw Aurora. "A bit early to be seeing you, isn't it?" she teased, but smiled, glad to see her as always. Auroroa was more relaxed this morning, and smiled back.

"I want to get going early, try and catch a few of the sales before the hordes get there."

Maleficent winced dramatically, knowing that her goddaughter could- and most likely would- spend hours at a single store, searching for the best deal, try everything on, and toss half of it in disgust because it wasn't "flattering to her shape." Sometimes Maleficent forgot that her little girl was a woman now. But she was glad to be with her, off to the side where she felt comfortable, reassuring her and easing her mind, endlessly repeating that Aurora really was beautiful, and that that blouse did not cost too much, and that people would not think badly of her for wearing that skirt, and on and on. She was mystified. When she had gone through adolescence, she had been living in The Moors. She had two dresses, that she had made herself, and no mirror, no comb or powders. She lived in poverty, but she hadn't really minded. She hadn't know that she was supposed to mind. For her, that was life, and she was happy when she got a treat, whether it be an old flower for her hair, or a shard of mirror that she propped up in her little corner. Sometimes she wished for a simpler life for Aurora, but she knew that it wouldn't make a difference, not really. Aurora was different from her, in so many ways. Not just her upbringing, but physically as well as mentally, she was almost from a different world.

They stopped for lunch at a little bakery they went to whenever they could. Their fresh-baked bread was tantalizing, and the smell that hit them when they opened the door made them realise that heaven could be a reality. Aurora had a hearty appetite, as usual, and Maleficent had another cup of tea, with scones, ladyfingers, and finger sandwiches. They both left the shop feeling satisfied, and ready to get on with their day.

That afternoon, they took a walk. Aurora loved walking with her godmother, because if she stayed quiet, then after a while, Maleficent would start to speak. Aurora never knew what she was going to speak about, sometimes it was her childhood, sometimes about the city- as it was now, or it's deep, golden history that went back for millennia. But whatever it was, Aurora was always glad to listen. Maleficent had a way of speaking, she had often thought, that reminded her of old knights and ladies from centuries ago, so formal, but it was so natural for her to speak in such a way that one did not question it. Perhaps it was because she was similar in many ways to those knights and ladies. She carried herself well, posture erect, head held high. Sometimes it felt like you were in the presence of a queen when you were by her side. She was always neat, and that extended to her dress, never a hair out of place, never rumpled clothing or even worried fidgeting. As far as Aurora could tell, the only time she has ever seen Maleficent move in a fidgety or wasteful way was when she was solving a problem involving strategy, at which point she would slowly tap her finger against her lips thoughtfully. And if she caught herself doing so, she always gave herself a mental scolding and sat still afterward.

On the way home, however, Aurora was too happy and bubbly to stay quiet for as long as it would take her godmother to begin speaking. And so she jabbered cheerily about her new purchases, the conversation she had had the other day with the local grocer, the news on the big to-do between Brad and Angelina, how her show was progressing, she didn't stop chattering until they arrived back at the apartment, and were greeted by Diaval informing them that he was just starting dinner. Aurora jumped to help him, and Maleficent smiled, and sat by herself, loving having spent the day with her girl, but glad for the silence. She stayed that way until it was time for dinner.


End file.
